Zuni Cafe's Chard and Onion Panade

I had a dinner party a few months ago in which everything sort of felt wrong. Not in the way you'd think - my guests ate everything I cooked (two chickens! multiple pounds of vegetables! an entire cake! a whole liter of whipped cream! six poached quince!) and there were no leftovers. But - has this happened to you? - when I sat down to eat dinner with our guests I looked down at my plate and thought, "I don't want to eat any of this".

It wasn't that the food didn't taste good, I guess. It's just that - and I'm having a hard time expressing just exactly what I mean, so bear with me here - it all felt so...strained, my relationship with what I'd cooked, I mean. I'd expended a lot of time and energy on planning the dinner and cooking the dinner and then once the food was in front of me it just felt so foreign, so far away from what I actually wanted to eat, from the things that make my mouth water. It was a sort of upsetting moment - to be surrounded by nine other people kindly devouring all that was laid before them and to feel so estranged from their experience and from the very food I'd spent all day working on.

Does this sound totally trite? I actually wrote a whole long post about that evening, so long that I thought about turning it into a chapter for the book, but in the end I couldn't figure out just exactly how to work it in or how to express myself, really. I mean: I threw a dinner party! The guests loved it! I wished I could have had a peanut butter sandwich instead! What?

For as long as I've been cooking in my own home, when time came to plan a dinner party, I'd spend days poring over cookbooks, trying to put together a menu that made sense (as old-fashioned as it may be, I adore cookbooks that include menu suggestions) and that would be a step up from the usual stuff I eat. But after that fatal dinner party I decided that I needed to approach menu planning differently. I needed to think about what I wanted to eat, first and foremost, when I had guests over. Does that sound like the most obvious thing ever? To me it wasn't.

After the dinner party that made me lose my appetite, I decided that, actually, we eat pretty darn well around here when it's just the two of us. Why, when you get down to brass tacks, should we change that winning formula just because we have people coming over? In fact, wouldn't that be just the moment to stick with the greatest hits that make us happy, dinner guests or no dinner guests?

And so, to celebrate my mother's birthday last week, along with several of her closest friends and my dad, we threw a dinner party with food so good, and so familiar, I wished I could have had thirds.

Instead of wracking my brains to come up with a special menu, I decided to stay simple. I'd made Judy Rodgers's chard panade many times before just for the two of us and fell in love with it a little bit more each time. When I thought about my mother's birthday, I couldn't stop thinking about that panade. It felt like the perfect January meal - meatless yet still full of richness and flavor, shot through with dark greens for our mind, a little cheese for our soul. Simple yet celebratory.

I decided to eschew an appetizer and serve a salad on its own, as a second course, so to speak. Soft butter lettuce and mâche were tossed with cubed avocados and slices of juicy oranges, bound together with a shallot vinaigrette from the Zuni Cafe cookbook, which is where the panade recipe is also from. We had a few good bottles of red wine to pass around and then, for dessert, a simple chocolate mousse from Dorie's new book.

The dinner was a huge success. People took seconds, thirds, licked their plates, and - thrillingly - I joined in. It felt so easy, so effortless. And my mother, a tough critic, was still raving about the celebration days later.

If you haven't yet had the pleasure of knowing panade, it's a cross between a gratin and a bread pudding, but only sort of. You cook a whole mess of onions until meltingly soft and amber-hued. You cube stale peasant bread and toss it with salt and olive oil and a little bit of chicken stock. You sauté Swiss chard until barely limp and still vibrantly green. You grate a tiny mountain of fragrant Gruyère. And then you get to work, layering all four elements over and over until the baking dish is entirely filled. You soak the whole thing with good chicken stock (seriously, homemade stock pushes this dish into the sublime) and then bake it very slowly in the oven until it's plush and satiny, almost wobbling, the top crusted perfectly.

Peasant food for the gods, if you will. And just the thing to make a hostess who, in truth, really does love throwing dinner parties, feel like a million dollars again.

Chard and Onion Panade
Serves 4 as a main course or 8 as a side dish

1 1/2 pounds thinly sliced yellow onions
Up to 1/2 cup mild-tasting olive oil
6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
Salt
1 pound Swiss chard (thick ribs removed), cut into 1-inch-wide ribbons
10 ounces day-old chewy peasant-style bread cut into rough 1-inch cubes
Up to 4 cups chicken stock
6 ounces Gruyère, coarsely grated

1. Place the onions in a deep 4-quart saucepan and drizzle and toss with oil to coat, about 1/4 cup. Set over medium-high heat and, shimmying the pan occasionally, cook until the bottom layer of onions is slightly golden around the edges, about 3 minutes. Stir and repeat.

2. Once the second layer of onions has colored, reduce the heat to low and stir in the garlic and a few pinches of salt. Stew, stirring occasionally, until the onions are a pale amber color and tender but not mushy, another 20 minutes or so. If at any point the onions look as if they may dry out, cover them to trap some of the moisture in the pan. Taste for salt. You should get about 2 1/4 cups cooked onions.

3. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees (or as low as 250 degrees, if it suits your schedule to stretch the cooking time from about 1 hour 45 minutes to 2 hours 45 minutes; the slower the bake, the more unctuous and mellow the results).

4. Wilt prepared chard in batches: Place a few handfuls of leaves in a 3-quart saute pan or a 10-to 12-inch skillet with a drizzle of oil, a sprinkling of water (if you've just washed the chard, it may have enough on the leaves), and a few pinches of salt. Set the pan over medium heat until the water begins to steam, then reduce the heat and stir and fold leaves until they are just wilted, 3 to 4 minutes. Leaves should be uniformly bright green, the white veins pliable (the veins will blacken later if they are not heated through). Taste. The chard may be slightly metallic-tasting at this point, but make sure it's salted to your taste. Set aside.

5. Toss and massage the cubed bread with a few tablespoons of olive oil, a generous 1/4 cup of the stock and a few pinches of salt, to taste.

6. Choose a flameproof, 3-quart souffle dish or enameled cast-iron Dutch oven. Assemble the panade in layers, starting with a generous smear of onions, followed by a loose mosaic of bread cubes, a second layer of onions, a wrinkled blanket of chard, and a handful of the cheese. Repeat, starting with bread, the onions and so on, until the dish is brimming. Aim for 2 to 3 layers of each component, then make sure the top layer displays a little of everything. Irregularity in the layers makes the final product more interesting and lovely. Drizzle with any remaining olive oil.

7. Bring the remaining 3 3/4 cups stock to a simmer and taste for salt. Add stock slowly, in doses, around the edge of the dish. For a very juicy, soft panade, best served on its own, like a soup or risotto, add stock nearly to the rim; for a firm but succulent panade, nice as a side dish, fill to about 1 inch below the rim. Wait a minute for stock to be absorbed, then add more to return to the desired depth. The panade may rise a little as the bread swells.

8. Set panade over low heat and bring to a simmer; look for bubbles around the edges (heating it here saves at least 30 minutes of oven time; it also means every panade you bake starts at the same temperature, so you can better predict total cooking times). Cover the top of the panade with parchment paper, then very loosely wrap the top and sides with foil. Place a separate sheet of foil under the panade or on the rack below it, to catch drips.

9. Bake until the panade is piping hot and bubbly. It will rise a little, lifting the foil with it. The top should be pale golden in the center and slightly darker on the edges. This usually takes about 1 1/2 hours, but varies according to shape and material of baking dish and oven. (You can hold the panade for another hour or so; just reduce the temperature to 275 degrees until 20 minutes before serving.)

10. Uncover panade, raise temperature to 375 degrees, and leave until golden brown on top, 10 to 20 minutes. (If you aren't quite ready when your panade is, re-tent the surface with parchment and foil and reduce the heat to 275 degrees. You can hold it another half hour this way without it overbrowning or drying out.) Slide a knife down the side of the dish and check the consistency of the panade. Beneath the crust, it should be very satiny and it should ooze liquid as you press against it with the blade of the knife. If it seems dry, add a few tablespoons simmering chicken stock and bake for 10 minutes longer.

Comments

[genia]

And I have a big pile of old bread, chard and onions at home just waiting to be made into a panade. Thank you, Luisa!

[Lisa (dinner party)]

Oh, I feel you on this post. I entertain a lot and sometimes my very best efforts don't measure up to the dream menus of my imagination. I can't say I've ever lost my appetite, but have definitely complained about my own cooking for days afterward.

I think a "greatest hits" approach helps. Too often I experiment with new recipes when throwing dinner parties, and that can go either way. At the very least, tried-and-true recipes keep you from getting nervous about screwing something up.

Sometimes I come up with wonderful menus by thinking about what I would like to eat in a restaurant, as if I was going out that night instead of having 5 people over. It's good exercise when I'm feeling uninspired.

Clearly I think about this stuff way too much!

[jenny]

be still my heart! another blog post so soon! I'm getting very spoiled. :)

I know exactly what you mean about "dinner party food," which is why, several years ago, I came to a similar realization and just started making food for parties that I like to eat regularly (maybe plus that little extra something frilly, depending on the occasion). but regardless of the occasion, this panade looks absolute delicious. can't wait to try it out myself next weekend.

[Tami]

Thanks for bringing this issue up. I have also had that nagging feeling before and its such a let down. Especially when, like you, I've spent soo many countless hours trying to create the perfect menu and the perfect evening. Its possilbe that quest for perfection is what takes me away from just cooking those things that make you want to not share at all, those dishes you adore beyond explanation. And thanks also for reminding me of panade. I've made a couple versions of this before (love that cookbook!) and am always smitten. I'm making that right away!

[Vanessa]

Ever since you mentioned this panade a while ago, I've been making it every week, the first time when I was feeling pretty low and it never fails to lift my spirits. Just like your posts! So often I'm disappointed with what I cook, even if others like it and I think it's normal after slaving over a hot stove for hours, smelling and tasting it. I try new things but keep it simple now, even when I have people over.

[Jessika]

I've started doing the simple route, too. Not the time to start de-boning chicken when already frazzled over guests coming. Keep it simple.
I set out small lebanese style (and spanish) tapas before dinner.

[Gemma]

You are definitely not alone on this one. I find that the more effort I put into a meal the less I want to eat it, I'll enjoy a little bit and will happily revisit the leftovers but the anticipation I felt while cooking somehow just vanishes when it's time to sit at the table. It's not the food so I guess it must just be that all my energy goes into the preparation, it's strange and pretty frustrating. Anyway, the panade looks like something I would happily make for two or for a crowd. I've been meaning to try one for too long now so I'll add it to my list for sometime in the next week or so.

[Victoria]

You aren't silly at all about looking at the food and feeling out of sync with it. I remember Laurie Colwin's piece about going to a black-tie affair and assuming the food would be awful and then having a plate of delicious comfort food - beef stew, I believe - placed in front of her. She was sooooo happy.

I learned a long time ago to serve the food we eat every day to company because it's just darn good. I make chicken paprikash, spaetzle, green beans, cucumber salad, and Marian Burros' plum (or apple if the season isn't right for plums) torte for company all the time. AND I don't mind serving it to the same people again! So far no one's ever complained.

Last week I went to a new, hip, and written-up restaurant here in the City. I took one look at the (very) expensive menu and thought "There isn't one thing I want to eat; not one thing." I chose the simplest thing. It was well executed and delicious, but I found it off-putting to order something by default instead of trying to decide from many tantalizing options.

[nellie]

Can't say my attempt at panade was so successful. It was... slimy. Maybe I needed to use a shallower casserole pan and not a dutch oven. Or bake it longer.

[stacey snacks]

I've had Zuni's chard panade on my list since Orangette posted it a while back.
I am doing a lot w/ chard these days, so this is a must!
I think your 1st dinner party sounds great. But the one for your mom and her friends sounds even better!

[lauren norster]

Chard + onion + cheese = a few of my favorite things. I need to try this -- I've never made panade before!

I love hosting dinner parties -- but even more I love having a potluck -- I get to cook and have fun, but it's also interesting to see what others bring. That way I don't get over stressed about cooking for 12 people and all their tastes!

[zerrin]

That feeling you have sounds so familiar to me. I think I am more successful in preparing dinner for two of us. I just don't feel as comfortable when we have guests for dinner. I can't easily decide on the menu, and sometimes I have the same feeling as yours. Then at another time I invite my guests for another dinner which has a menu much more appealing to me.
As for the panade, it looks fantastic! I must buy some chard from the open market to give it a try.

[Dana]

Yes, I totally and completely know what you mean. We throw a lot of dinner parties and I always cook food I want and I STILL don't want to eat at the end of it all. Days of thinking about the food, days of cooking the food, makes me not want to eat the food. You are not alone! The timing here is terrific, I just took that book out of the library and this is one of the first things I want to make.

[Sara]

For dinner parties I usually spend time thinking about the guests and what will be practical to make-time constraints and not spending too much time away from guests. I only look at think about things I like so I don't usually have this problem.

[Robin]

Oh, Luisa, I love this post! I am such a disaster at "entertaining," and the worst thing about that is that each wobbly attempt makes you more skittish and likely to muck up the next. Actually, even when I have tried to serve our unfancy favorites they just don't come out the same when I'm offering them to friends. I think the solution to this problem is to have a couple of friends over for dinner at least once a week, but so far I have not found the energy to implement.

And the other feeling I sympathize with is not wanting to eat at the end of cooking. I haven't made anything ambitious enough for this to be the case in a while, but I remember the feeling well.

Now I recall that the first time I ever made this panade we had a surprise dinner guest. I worried that the texture would be too weird for him (I didn't know much about his tastes), but he loved it! Mmm, I need to make it again soon.

[jenene]

Luisa, Where in Paris do you stay?

[beth@thescreenporch]

I have never heard of panade but I can tell you I WILL be cooking it this week. Thank you for the post. I think you have the absolute right idea whe it comes to entertaining. Which we do a lot of. Familiar is always best. I adore your site and somehow it feels more personal this year. Thank You Luisa. B:)

[Mairi @ Toast]

The recipe sounds & looks wonderfully rustic & flavourful. And I am always on the look out for something new with chard...usually a bit of glut through winter. Re the dinner party I have certainly been there & I think you are right that you do need to cook what you want to eat.

[Ellen]

the panade sounds so good...& the cauliflower soup... Thank you, Luisa!

[Luisa]

Jenene - We stayed most of this last trip at a friend's, with three nights at Mama Shelter in the 20th, which was funky (for Paris). I can also recommend any of the traditional, small hotels in the 6th around rue Jacob (Marronniers, Angleterre, Deux Continents, etc).

[Nuts about food]

I know that feeling exactly! The best meals are the meals we make just for us, because they are simple, what we really like and made in a relaxed state of mind. Dinner party dishes tend to be new recipes and made with a feeling of nervousness and the menu has always been thought about and discussed way too long. We should stick to waht we know and like. And experiment on our own.

[Sylvie]

What a great sounding recipe. I'll have to try it.

Oh and you're certainly not alone when it comes to loosing your appetite after having spent hours making food for others. I can't explain that feeling either, but it seems like all the effort is greatly appreciate by friends/family and guests, but I can find no joy in the food. I think on those occassions even my taste buds don't work normally, because when I do make myself eat, everything tastes kind of bland when I know it can't be.

[Suzy]

I suppose it's the same thing same thing that compels us to wear uncomfortable high heels and slick on some lip gloss when we go out, we want to make it special.
But of course with food, tried and tested (and loved) is the best way to go.
It's good if you are "mature" and confident enough as a cook to let go of trying to impress. I still struggle!
Best results occur when my husband invites friends over for Friday night dinner and tells me a couple of hours before they turn up.

[Koek!]

I have a feeling this is about to become my new favourite dish...

[Sonia]

I couldn't agree with you more!
I used to try SO hard to make the most amazing meals for guests, then I learnt to chill out a bit (only took about 10 years to realise this was the way to go!!), and now I cook the meals that we have all the time.
The weird thing is that the simpler meals like the pasta bakes with home made bread, are enthused about much more, possibly because I'm more relaxed cooking them.

[Florian]

It sounds like your distaste with the meal could have something to do with the way you've made your passion your work. The release and freedom your passion offer you can sometimes becomes entwined in the routine of work, dragging you down with it; much like bloggers can start to feel like their lived experiences are just rough drafts of future postings.
Having said that, thanks for sharing that cauliflower soup idea, I picked some up at Lidl and wintered it up with some celeriac and truffle oil, heartwarming.

[bellini]

I understand your feelings about the meal you cooked up for guests. I sometimes find myself making a dish for my blog that I am sure my readers will love and then it languishes in the fridge never to be seen or heard of again. Maybe our resolution is to make dishes we know we will kove. Sure we will come across some failures but we will have eaten some very good meals in 2011.

[Clara]

Thanks so much for the panade recipe; I am trying to have something vegetarian for dinner at least once a week and this fits well into that plan as an option for a winter time vegie dinner main course.

I too have noticed that after cooking a fancy meal for guests that I have no desire to eat it. I have been thinking that it was because I was so familar with the food that it had lost it's appeal for me and there was no anticipation of eating a good meal left. But your post makes me think that other things could be coming into play also. My favorite kinds of foods are things that are a bunch of different foods are combined together in a dish, like a casserole or a stew, a stir fry, a salad made with vegies, protein, starches, dressing. And I don't usually do that kind of thing for company dinners; I do meals with protein, starch, and a vegetable or two sitting in piles on a plate.

[noëlle {simmer down!}]

This is my most-oft-made dish from the Zuni cookbook; I love how simple and comforting it is. I will say, though, that the texture might take some getting used to if you've never eaten this sort of thing (I noticed another commenter called it "slimy"...)

[Sharon]

I really enjoy your blog and look forward to trying this recipe. I've added your blog as a link on mine, http://www.orangemadeleines.blogspot.com. Thanks for the inspiration!

[Row]

Oh, this looks so lovely and yummy! Instead of dining in a crowded restaurant on Feb. 14th, I think we'll stay in and make this dish... it should chase the winter blahs away. Thanks for sharing this! :)

[Pam]

What a great post! I made the Zuni panade during the holidays, and my husband did not like it!! What a disappointment. He is not the bread person I am. Because I had a ton of it left, the next night I made the left-over suggestion that follows the recipe. That went over pretty well. I could even serve those leftovers to guests!

[Dime Store Foodie]

I know exactly how you feel. You try to impress and in the end feel defeated, eventhough everyone else seems to be enjoying it. I think for dinner parties going with what works and most importantly what invokes great memories of times surrounded by a particular dish is the best way to go, although I think I am a glutton for punishment, since I always find myself being daring for a dinner party! Looks amazing, I will have to try this recipe!

[Robin Salant]

I know exactly what you mean! I've had that feeling happen to me so many times that I swear I know it's going to happen before I start cooking something -- I just feel.. off. So, I've learned to chuck any idea of cooking something new on those days (or the idea of cooking at all). The mood you are in, and the enthusiasm you have (conscious or not) for your food/recipe makes such a hige deal on how the meal turns out. I'm an atheist, and this is the closest I come to being spiritual, so I'm so happy to hear that someone else has actually felt this way!

[Molly]

Isn't it strange, the disconnect between the food we want and eat, and the food we feel we might feed our friends?

I had a dead-ringer of this experience recently, and could not decide whether it was a commentary on my friendships, my confidence, or my cooking. All of which are in quite fine condition, all by their lonesome. Perhaps they just need to chat it out.

Anyway. This is about exactly what I'd like to eat alone, and in good company.

[Lauren]

Holy crap does this look and sound good. Can you suggest anything to serve it alongside of if preparing as a side dish?

[Jess]

I can relate to your plight, and no, you're not being trite! (didn't mean to rhyme there)
I've never heard of panade, but this looks like the best one dish meal I've ever seen. And I love one dish meals. Thanks for sharing! I can't wait to try this.

[Luisa]

Lauren - a really spare salad with bitter greens and a sharp vinaigrette would be great alongside a big scoop of panade.

[kristina - no penny for them]

this is the best comfort food i've read about in a long time. (and i bet even better when shared with guests!)

[Mariana]

I had all these ingredients on hand, so I made this last night and it was delicious! Thanks, Luisa!

[Tina]

Hey I am so amazed with all the recipes you have included in your blog. I really appreciate your effort in sharing what you know. Your experiences are our teacher in cooking and I am really adopting some of your recipes. I am glad that I have found your blog sites.

[Sian Breslin]

I really enjoy your blog and look forward to trying this recipe. Your images make everything very appetizing!

[Fabi]

I truly feel inspired by your blog!!!Love the recipes!!!The images are awesome!!!

http://fromustwoyou.blogspot.com/

xox Cybelle & Fabi

[Christine]

Yes, the pictures are really wonderful; and panade is just so lovely, isn't it? I will have to try this one!

[Barton]

Sounds so familiar when I spend a lot of time cooking I end up not wanting to eat what I cook.
I am ashamed to admit I have never even heard of panade but have day old bread and inspiration. Thanks

[Jenny]

Luisa,
I can't find piment d'Espelette that you dusted on the cauliflower soup.
Is it similar to cayenne or smoked hot or sweet paprika?

thanks,
Jennyi

[Annie Scrumptiousamp.blogspot.com]

OOPS, MY CORRECT INFO IS ON THIS ONE:

I agree and I think all cooks have the very same issue. I think that over time I have realized that what I get out of cooking for others is pleasure from a) the process of the preparation and b) the pleasure of giving the gift to others and seeing them enjoy it.
By the time I eat it, there are no surprises because I've spent so much time cooking it and thinking about it.
I used to wonder why my mother didn't really eat much dinner with the family, and now I understand why.
I do get immense pleasure from eating something great that someone else cooked!
I guess it gives a new perspective on " you can't have your cake and eat it too"

Keep up the great work!

Annie

[Luisa]

Jenny - no, it's sort of its own fragrant thing. Can you find Aleppo pepper? That could be nice on top, too. Cayenne's too harsh for sprinkling, and I kind of feel the same way about the paprikas...But experiment! :)

[Jenny]

thanks Luisa, I found Aleppo pepper at Central Market!

[Martha]

This looks like a wonderful recipe, but I wish that you would give the ingredient amounts in metric as well as American the way David Lebovitz does. Some of your readers live here in Europe.